Giant Rats Take Over NYC Playground and Terrorize Parents (PHOTO)

Once upon a time, I was a Brooklyn girl. I loved living there. Loved the energy, the creativity, the natural swagger everybody had, which meant I couldn’t help but have swagger myself. But there were two things that put a small damper on my infatuation with the City that Never Sleeps: the price of parking and the random appearance of rats.

My heart goes out to the parents who live in the Marcy Houses, where monster rats have been spotted along with the standard-size vermin which, measured against the ones in other metropolises, are still huge. I don’t mind admitting I’m a little disheartened that creatures this big live anywhere outside of a tropical climate, let alone in a city I would call home again. Not if these bad boys are flooding the neighborhood playgrounds, though, and sending parents scurrying to collect their kids, some of whom are probably a little smaller than the doggone rats.

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Here’s the proof:

The fact that he's smiling makes him my hero.

I just can’t imagine what the proper and civilized reaction would be to seeing a rat that big roaming around the grounds of the building you live in. I just have to send up a word of thanks to God because 1) I’ve never run across one as big as that and 2) there are still men’s men like the guy who pitchforked that beast to death. Animal rights be damned. That thing looks like a mythical creature and I’m glad it’s gone. Especially since there are all kinds of children roaming and playing in the vicinity and it looks like it could almost swallow a seven-year-old whole.

Now back in my days as a BK resident, I would avoid anything that looked like it would attract those nasty critters as a precaution, so I would make a beeline across the street and away from dumpsters, piles of garbage bags, clusters of litter strewn about on the sidewalk. Once in a while, I’d see one come skeetering out from behind something and I’d do a Jackie Joyner-Kersee hurdle over the nearest object — baby stroller, car hood, disabled person, whatever — to get away from it. If I even sensed that they were in my vicinity, I darn sure wouldn’t let The Girl loose on a playground.

Still, I can totally empathize with moms and dads cautiously letting their babies play outside. It’s summer, it’s warm, and it’s a great opportunity to let the little ones tucker themselves out so they can take a nice, long nap when they get back inside. But once you start seeing rats the size of well-fed felines prowling on the playgrounds and around the apartment, it’s time to think about packing it up and moving elsewhere.

Problem is, most of the folks who live in Marcy Houses — where Jay-Z grew up — and so many other projects them don’t have the money to do that. And there just aren’t enough guys with pitchforks, good aim, and a set of steel cajones to spear all of these filthy things to death. Until they come up with a solution, I guess these parents will just be keeping their babies inside and steel wooling every crack, crevice, and itty bitty hole to keep the rats in their place. Or at least try to. (Shudder).

Some of us have survived some pretty dismal living conditions. What’s been your worst nightmare?